


Different Stars

by tootsiemuppet



Category: Boston Legal, Stargate (1994)
Genre: Crossover, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-22
Updated: 2009-12-22
Packaged: 2017-10-05 00:12:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/35588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tootsiemuppet/pseuds/tootsiemuppet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alan Shore reflects on a previous life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Different Stars

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ilthit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ilthit/gifts).



> Written for a prompt by Hyel, with her encouragement and beta. Many thanks also to des_pudels_kern for poking. I love you both.

 

"It is not more surprising to be born twice than once."  
**\- Voltaire**

 

**1.**  

_It never stopped feeling strange to Daniel how the sky never grew truly dark at night here. Instead, the world was cast in a velvet ripple of blue, deep and dark and heavy, but never the pitch black nothingness that he remembered from earth, and that he had feared so much as a child, loved in adolescence, took for granted as an adult._

_This night three simultaneous moons hung palely in the sky, the brightest it ever got, and the stars had been haphazardly rearranged, as if a child had gathered them up and strewn them out again like so many pebbles. A new game. He'd never much stopped to consider the sky before, back at home, a billion miles away, but the differences struck a chord in him now, wonderment and nostalgia all wrapped up together. Sha'uri had been amused at it, had teased him for his melancholy, but she'd been sweet and encouraging, too, and these days whenever the weather permitted, they spent the night outside, faces turned upward into the pale light. _

_She'd been teaching him their names: the moons, the stars, the constellations, and he'd rejoiced to hear the familiar names in different contexts. _Dhihauti_. She laughingly corrected his pronunciation, touching his face affectionately when he got it right. _Su_'_ata_. He got to know them all in the end, and he kissed her chapped dry lips with their names on his tongue.  _Khens, hewanet, iwer_._

_****_  

Alan Shore strode languidly onto the balcony, took the proffered glass from Denny's raised hand and lowered himself in the cool white leather embrace of Denny's lounge chair. 

'You're early.' Denny's breath mingled with his cigar smoke as he exhaled into the November sky.

'I like to make the effort when a storyline is about me.'

Denny chuckled low, and offered him his humidor. Cuban. God only knew how he got them.

There was a nip in the air tonight, but they'd been here before with the snow coming down and ice blossoming along the window panes, the smoldering ends of their cigars and the slide of Scotch down their throats the only warmth around. It was easily overlooked. They sat in companionable silence for a while, only staring at the pinpricks of starlight through the slow undulations of white smoke.

'I used to know all their names,' Alan said. Denny didn't answer.

 

**2.**

_Death itself was not to be feared. Death was nothingness, an absence of self, other, life, love, fear, knowing, not knowing, anything, everything. Death just _was_. But it was the moment before death that shook Daniel to his core, the split-second lifetime that was the absolute culmination of being. He was terrified, raging, overcome with love and with a terrible knowledge of all that nothingness beckoning. Inescapable. He lashed out and clung feverishly to his anger before it, too, turned to nothing along with all the rest. He wasn't ready. He clawed in red-hot fury, he fought back with all his might, screaming from burning lungs all the while that he wasn't ready, that it wasn't time, he had things to live and stay for. Whiteness exploded painfully behind his eyelids and his throat closed. He gasped in defiance, in fear. It was more drawn out this time than when Ra had had him. There was time to see flickers of Sha'uri, old friends, family at his side. More time for realization._

There would be nothing left.

Nothing,

nothing,

nothing. 

_He inhaled deeply and screamed again, as loudly as he could, straining and thrashing and lashing out through his tears.  _

_He came to himself again with three sets of strong arms holding him down; there was sand stuck to the tear tracks on his cheeks and he sobbed around the dryness in his aching throat. While he waited for his heart to slow down, his muscles to uncoil, he caught sight of her form on the far side of the tent, small and frightened. A bruise was starting to blossom on her cheek. She didn't meet his eyes._

_It had been the third time this week._

****

'Alan! Alan, for the love of God, wake up. Oh goddamn it. Wake up, Alan. Alan! Come on, man, it's okay, come on.'

Slowly the searing terror left him and he found himself being crushed tightly against Denny's chest, his arms pinned tightly to his side. Either he'd managed to back Denny to the balcony door or Denny had intercepted him, he didn't know which, but Denny's back was pressed against the cool glass and his own wide-eyed reflection was staring back at him over Denny's shoulder. He looked away immediately. Denny's arms trembled wildly around his chest, holding him in place.

'I'm alright,' he breathed. He tried to relax his posture despite his protesting muscles. 'I'm okay.' Denny reluctantly loosened his grip, but kept his hands on Alan's arms. He could feel Denny's eyes on his face, his own refusing to meet them. 'I'm fine, Denny, let's go back to bed.' A small corner of his mind registered that his ankle was throbbing. He looked down to see an angry red welt where the rope had burned into his flesh. 'Thank you.'

Denny crushed him back to his chest with a broken sob. 'God, Alan.' Alan felt hands fist into the back of his pajama top, and dropped his head to Denny's shoulder in defeat. 'What did you _see_?'

Alan raised his arms to return the embrace and replied simply, 'Nothing.'  

  


**3.**

_Everything had gone downhill when the nightmares started coming more frequently. Talk grew and flourished among the Abydonians that he'd been cursed, though the nature of the curse remained something of a hot topic. In some versions Ra was preparing his body for his next rebirth, wearing him down so there would be less resistance when he took what was his by right. In others, the mere touch and proximity to the god had driven him insane. Sometimes it was a punishment meted out, or his home-world calling him back._

Daniel mostly ignored the looks when they started, countered the whispers with good humour and tried not to be too personally offended. It worked for a while, and he thought he was making some progress dissuading his friends at least, but his sleeplessness was starting to tell on him. 

_First it was just snappishness, easily enough explained away, but by the time he'd started losing weight and the bags under his eyes had turned coal-grey, he'd stopped caring about explanations or pretences. Talk flared more wildly than ever. Sha'uri had been a consolation throughout most of it, but in the end he couldn't stand even the pity in her eyes anymore. He was too tired to function during the day and too terrified to sleep during the night._

_It had been weeks since he had last slept next to his wife, months since they had last made love. She was close, just a few steps away really, but he couldn't allow himself to share her bed anymore, and every night he would feel her pitying eyes on him as he desperately tried to fight oblivion._

_It was exactly eight months since his first attack when he said, without taking his eyes off the wall opposite, that he was going home._

_It wasn't an idle rumination or a question._

_Sha'uri didn't respond immediately, but he saw her nod from the corner of his eye. "I know," she said._

He would have cried if he still could.

****

  
"Well," Denny yawned expansively. “Let's get back to bed then."

Alan smiled ruefully as he downed the last dregs of his Scotch. It had started with strong coffee, progressed to an impromptu game of Wii Tennis and an equally impromptu viewing of an old Twilight Zone episode that happened to be on TV (something about a prescient napkin dispenser), to this point where there was officially nothing on anymore and the effects of their habitual Scotch had done away with their coffee induced vigour. It probably would have worn off by now anyway. 

"Actually, I should probably go home." He set his tumbler down next to Denny's and lifted himself out of the sofa with a soft groan. "They never come twice in one night anyway. I should let you get what's left of a decent night's sleep."

"Bullshit," Denny grumbled. "You think I'll let you sleep alone again after that? Now, take your rope and let's go back to bed. Some of us need our beauty sleep." He waited for Alan to pick up the rope where it lay discarded next to the table and ushered him into the bedroom with a hand low on his back. "You're not going anywhere."

Surrounded by lush silk pillows and absolute darkness, Alan couldn't remember when he had last slept this deeply.

 

**4. **

_It had been surprisingly straightforward to arrange his return home. The army had practically leaped at the opportunity to insert one of their own in his own place. A certain Michael something. Daniel didn't really care very much. The authorities had been very insistent he relinquish his own identity. For his protection, they'd said. Again, he didn't really care, he was sure they had their reasons. He would get a new name, job, self, life, while someone else got his. He'd discussed it with Sha'uri, perfunctorily. They hadn't been speaking much lately._

_When the day came when he passed through the stargate again, he returned to a muted hero's welcome. A few faces, none of which were familiar, all of which were military. Wide white American smiles and hearty backslapping. From the corner of his eye he saw the man who'd be replacing him step through the gate. Square-jawed and buff. It figured. He'd never be able to get those biceps in a thousand years, he thought grimly. He felt sick. _

_"Welcome back, son," someone pumped his hand vigorously in greeting. Daniel vaguely wondered who he was. "It's very good to have you back. We've already taken the liberty of cutting through the paper-mill, Dan," he grinned. "Or should I make that 'Al' now?"_

Daniel winced inwardly. "Alan, please."

"You got it, son." The smile didn't falter. It reminded Daniel uncomfortably of the pop-up bobo doll he'd had as a child. "We thought it might be too conspicuous for you to go back to your previous field of employment, it's a small world after all, isn't that right? And we don't want you bumping into any old colleagues now, so we decided to start you off afresh. Is there anything else you might be qualified for?"

"I, uh, did a year of law school before I changed my major."

"Excellent. From what I hear you sure got the tongue for it. Tell you what, Al, we put you through the necessary tracks to get privately reeducated, and we make sure your name gets mentioned on the registration lists for the appropriate universities, all you got to do is actually study. Now how does that sound? We've already decided to set you up in Boston."

Daniel - or, well, Alan now, he supposed - just nodded. He was very tired. If he had to be completely honest with himself, he was glad they'd chosen something as remote as this was. He could adapt. Daniel was good at adapting. Alan would be, too.

   
****

  
Alan woke the next morning with birdsong coming through the closed windows. That in itself served as more of a reminder that he was in Denny's grotesquely luxurious house than the fine sheets he was twisted up in or even the arm that lay heavily curled about his waist. He wondered vaguely what time it was. Not that it mattered. There was nothing pressing scheduled this morning - no depositions, no meetings with clients or otherwise, no arraignments. He wasn't sure about Denny, but he guessed not. He would have known. 

For the moment he was content with just lying there. Denny's body was slotted into his every angle - shoulders, hips, knees, ankles - his hand occasionally twitching against Alan's stomach. Alan smiled into his pillow. It had literally been months, perhaps years since he had last slept this well.

Denny stirred behind him and tightened his grip. He mumbled something between Alan's shoulder blades that might have been 'good morning'. Then again, it also might have been 'Denny Crane.'

"Go back to sleep, Denny," Alan stroked two fingers along Denny's hand and prepared to drift off again.

"Alan," Denny murmured.

"Hmn?"

"Yesterday, I don't want it to happen again." 

Alan swallowed, his fingers stilled. "Neither do I, my doctor or the hotel owners, I'm sure, but it's not to be helped." He paused, fear suddenly settling into his gut. "I don't have to stay here. I can probably call in a nurse to watch over me during the nights. Maybe she'll even wear the outfit."

"No, I didn't mean it like that." Denny gripped Alan's hand. "From now on the sleepovers are permanent. We can get softer rope. Nylon or silk or something, you know you can get them on mail order. Or one of those motion sensors things we can install around the room. I've got friends in the CIA who can get us some proper ones. I can switch the main bedroom to the ground floor. Reinforce the doors. Those big locks, you know, that don't break even if you shoot 'em."

"Denny," Alan tried to force back a chuckle. "Are you asking me to move in with you?"

"Not if you're going to be so homosexual about it. We may be sleeping together, but I'm not having sex with you." He paused. "And I may have the mad cow but that doesn't mean you can take advantage of me, either."

"I would never dream of accosting the virtue of a fellow-flamingo."

"So will you do it?"

"I'll check out of the hotel today." He didn't even try to keep the smile out of his voice this time. He gripped back tightly on Denny's hand where it still lay against his stomach.

"I love you, Denny."

This time, the answering habitual "I love you, too" sounded like a door opening. Or a gate, if you will.

 

**5.**

They were on their second Grand Robusto for the evening. It was warmer now than the previous few nights, a rare throwback to summer. Their glasses cradled but abandoned and half-empty, or half-full depending on the way you chose to look at it, in their hands.

"I wanted to thank you for last night, Denny," Alan said. 

Denny waved it off with a flick of his cigar.

"No, I do want to say this." He looked aside and waited for Denny to meet his gaze. "_Thank_ you, Denny. I don't care to think of what could have happened if you hadn't been there to, well - " He pursed his lips and looked down into his glass. Denny didn't speak. 

"Denny, I'm going to tell you something I have never told anyone before, and I need you to listen to me."

"I always listen to you."

"You always listen to me when we're out here."

"I _always _listen to you."

"All right," Alan smiled. He cleared his throat. "Denny, I never had very many friends growing up. I was invariably the weedy bespectacled geek with the mouth too big for my own good. I think I must have had some innate ability to always espouse the unpopular cause. Lord, how I used to get beaten up." He expected Denny to chuckle at that, but cleared his throat when there was nothing forthcoming. The gold of the scotch rippled and shimmered softly in his hands.

"Home wasn't exactly a sanctuary, either. I had no siblings, an unaffectionate mother and a father who, well," he paused to search for words. "The least said of my father the better," he concluded. "I ended up on my own a lot.I had some vague conception that things would get better once I left home and went to university, but they didn't, not really. Then I thought it would get better once I had my degree. Again with the unpopular causes. I wasn't very well liked. It did in its own a weird convoluted way open some doors for me, though. It introduced me to my wife." He paused, his gaze searching out the few stars bright enough not to be drowned out by the city lights. He smiled as he picked out the dim form of the big dipper.

"I had had plenty of acquaintances before but no one ever talked and understood as much as she did. She was absolutely stunning. You would have loved her. Eyes you could lose yourself in, lips that just begged to be touched, gorgeous clavicle. She looked like innocence and sin all at at once. I loved her the moment I saw her."

  
Denny tilted his head. "You don't talk much about her."

"No," Alan said softly. "I don't think about her much anymore." He pivoted in his seat to face Denny. "Is that terrible? We were so close. She was so adventurous and so full of _life_, and most of all she was so loving. It seemed like she always knew somehow just what I needed most and she recognised, she just knew it was closeness. She taught me so much and it never even occurred to me to thank her for it.

"When she was gone, everything fell down around me again, and I had to start over. I thought it would be easier this time around, but every time anyone got close it reminded me of her and I couldn't bear it. I've built up some pretty big walls over the past few years, and in some strange perverted way I've been proud of them, and I wouldn't want them to be different, but now -" He broke off. "Denny, do you think there's something wrong with me for not thinking about her anymore?"

Denny waved his cigar in a non-committal way. "People move on."

"I don't think it's that. It's as if it all happened in a completely different lifetime where the colours were slightly more muted and the stars slightly brighter and I was more open and trusting**. **Perhaps less cynical. It feels like I was a different man back then. Do you ever feel like that?"

Denny deliberated for a moment. He pursed his lips. "No," he said eventually. "You can't improve on perfection." He jabbed his at his own chest with his cigar and added "Denny Crane" as if that explained everything. Perhaps it did. Alan smiled.

"We all change. Even you, my friend."

"Denny Crane. I've been getting cancelled since the sixties and I'm still around."

Alan chuckled. "There is that." He held out his glass. "Thank you for being my friend, Denny."

Denny clinked it with his own. "Flamingos. Till death do us part."

"Let no man tear asunder."

Alan settled back in his chair and let his gaze slide upward with the smoke.

**Author's Note:**

> I've got bunch of unused Denny punchlines. I figured I might as well add a few. Really, half the fun in making this was just breaking the wall all the time. I think my Shatner love may be showing.  
> "Denny Crane, not unless they give me my own spaceship."  
> "Denny Crane, I'll always have Priceline."  
> "Denny Crane, change is for liberals."  
> "Denny Crane, I'm a rocket man."  
> "Denny Crane. Do I look like a transformed man to you?"  
> "Denny Crane, I can't get behind that."  
> "Denny Crane, I do well in syndication."


End file.
